The scars of time
by wispers
Summary: Due to what she believes to be blackouts, the Hero of Kvatch has a difficult time figuring out what she has done and who she really is. Follows the DB storyline and alters it. Enjoy :)
1. Chapter 1: Emerged from the pitch black

I don't quite know how old I am. I have vague memories, memories from what seems centuries ago. Also very recent memories.

The first clear memory was inside a prison cell, I don't know for how long I've been there, or for how long I was due for. At a point the emperor himself visited my cell, emperor Uriel Septim VII, shortly before he was assassinated by the Mythic Dawn. The last thing he did was give me the Amulet of Kings and ask me to bring the amulet to some guy named Jauffre.

And I did. Then went to Kvatch to fetch the emperor's last remaining son. His bastard, Martin. By the time I got there Kvatch was completely overrun by the Daedra of the Oblivion plains.

I closed the gate, got Martin to Jauffre, who got attacked in the meanwhile (and robbed of the Amulet of Kings - divines! Can't people be more careful?) and brought them safely to the Blades in Cloud Ruler Temple. They offered me to join them, but I politely declined. I had done enough for them and got nothing in return. I told myself I would find more profit in raiding bandit hideouts or something.

That pretty much sums my life. Yeah.

I've made a home for myself in a cave. I decided to keep a journal, so that if I ever face these blackouts again, I at least will know who I am and what I did. Nevertheless I got into an.. unusual situation, just a few months later.

Deep in the bowels of an unnamed cave slightly north of Anvil I was organizing my loot from the past days. I have many items, but not so much space. Two bookcases of which one broken, 2 chests and a handful of tables, well not literally a handful but you get the point.

Among my bandit loot were coins, gems, weapons and arrows, but mostly coins and gems, and a lot of them. Don't ask me why I keep hoarding them. I just do. I never bother taking their armor, you never really get rid of that sweaty-never-washed-bandit smell. Gods that's awful.

Shit. My primary chest was overflowing, I forgot that. In the other chest I had all my food, I really need to go to Anvil some time to get a cupboard for that. And barrels.

For now I would just keep the remaining coins and gems underneath my bed, and as I was there already, I took the time to fetch my journal I hid there and updated it.

Lately it was more of a summary of which hideouts I had plundered. The time between the entries grew bigger and bigger, as I had to travel far more east to find some. Though the men and mer of the cities would remember me always as the Hero of Kvatch, the scum in their ruines and caves knew me as the bandit slayer. Or The bandit Plague, bandit spooker, the raiding devil, or any other silly stupid title. They become more bizarre each day.

I shove the journal back under my bed, took some cheese, bread and mead and sat at the one table not covered in weapons and arrows. As I ate I reflected back on the past days and carefully examined if there was something missing. If I had a blackout.

Then it suddenly was there, something felt wrong, out of place and I listened intensively. I was certain of it. Someone or something was here, in my cave, and it gave me the chills. Surely the occasional rat found his way in here and I even encountered a lost adventurer, but this was different.

There is no way to subtle draw a greatsword, so I didn't even try. I got up and damned myself for picking this spot in the cave. It is the deepest room, but it has two layers, a round small one, the one which I keep my stuff, and an upper layer, forming a miserable excuse for a circle just above it. It is a bit like a balcony and you can look in to every part of the room from up there with no problem. I had plans for building a floor between these two parts, but I had postponed that idea in my carelessness. I held my sword with two hands, pointing to the nearest entrance.

there were two entrances on the upper floor, one on the lower. You know that feeling of fearing the unknown? I have that right now. And I feel it good.

I closed my eyes to trust more on my hearing, only to get distracted by the shivering in my breathings. I hate being hunted. It makes me look so clumsy.

"I must admit you have keen senses." Reflexively I swung my greatsword to the male voice dangerously close behind me. How did he get there? Why didn't I hear him?

My sword got blocked by a simple dagger, wielded by an Imperial man, dressed in pitch black robes and carrying a polite, but sinister smile, which really stood out, because the rest of his face was covered in shadow.

"Put down your weapon.", the man said calmly, with that same smile. "I assure you I am not here to harm you."

I hesitated. He was stronger than me and could kill me whenever he wanted, of that I was sure. He stared at me, observing every little movement I made, even after I sheathed my sword. When he didn't say anything I asked "Who are you?"

I know, clique question. But he seemed pleased, as if he had been waiting for that question to pop up.

"My name is Lucien Lachance, a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. And you, you are a killer. A taker of life. A harvester of souls. Your work, your deathcraft, pleases the Night Mother."

"Wow, wow, wow. Take it easy!", I said, slightly overwhelmed. I certainly had picked up rumors about this Dark Brotherhood. It is said to be an organization of cold blooded killers. I took the lives of bandits! I don't know what rumor says now of me but I most certainly was not a cold blooded murderer. "I think you completely misunderstand. I'm a bandit raider, nothing more."

Lucien Lachance raised his head slightly. "Nothing more? The Night Mother seems to think otherwise." It was as if his eyes could see though my very soul. See things that I could not see. I barely know who I am myself.

I sat down at the table and helped myself to some mead. I turned my chair to face Lucien, who now stood against the wall, with his arms crossed and an amused look on his face, not covered in shadow anymore. I could now see his eyes were brown, as was his mostly hidden hair. I have to admit he is quite handsome.

"So. I suppose, if you believe I'm a murderer and all, you are here to ask me to recruit me, am I right?", I tried to say this in the calmest, most confident voice I could produce.

"Indeed so dear child. I come to you with an offering. An opportunity... to join our rather unique family." Honestly, I felt flattered. But what does that really mean?

Carefully I replied "So how does this.. well.. work?" Lucien's smile widened and I felt a small rush of adrenaline racing through my veins. I was actually having a friendly somewhat business conversation with a skilled assassin. Lucien approached me and laid one hand on my shoulder. Leaning in, he quietly spoke in my ear: "On the Green Road to the north of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. Kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete. Do this, and I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family."

I said nothing. I didn't know what to say. His words had some kind of perversion to it. He made it sound so pleasant. Then he retreated from my personal space.

"Allow me to grant you a gift, a token from the Dark Brotherhood." Lucien revealed a fancy dagger and handed it over to me casually, and I took it, afraid he would stab me if I didn't.

"The Blade of Woe. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. May it serve you well, as does your silence. ", he explained. "Now I bid you farewell."

Lucien prepared himself to leave. I took a look at my newly obtained dagger and unsheathed it with the uttermost care, as if it was as breakable as an egg. Damn this thing is sharp!

"Wait, Lucien.." He turned around. "Yes, dear child?"

I swallowed. I have not the slightest clue of how these Dark Brotherhood people think or work. I should be careful with what I say. "Say, what if I botch this up, or don't kill this.. man?"

"Then you have failed your initiation and I will not reveal myself a second time." He said simply and walked though the entryway, then halted, and turned around.

"I do hope we'll meet again soon, Val." He smiled wickedly, casted a spell and disappeared in the night.

Did I tell him my name? I don't think so. Nonetheless, I felt somewhat relieved that Lucien Lachance had left. His presence was intimidating. But a part of me was oh so curious.

Silently I examined the Blade of Woe. It was so sharp. I couldn't image one could survive after an good aimed stab and that gave me the chills. Did I murder someone? And if so, who? This Night Mother seemed to think I did.

I will go to the Inn of Ill Omen. This didn't mean I decided to join a bunch of assassins, but it might mean some answers.


	2. Chapter 2: Rigor Mortis

**Chapter 2: Rigor Mortis**

I'm a monster. I felt nothing, nothing but paralyzed by an overdoses of mixed feelings, just absolutely stunned. In front of me lied the lifeless body of Rufio. His eyes had started to sink into the skull, his skin had gotten purple, and Rigor Mortis, the stiffening of the body, had start to set in. I had been here for hours.

I left my home 2 days ago. The journey had seemed longer then that though. I'm not that topographically skilled, at first I found my way by following a track of bandit hideouts though the eastern side of Cyrodiil, after that I asked patrolling guards for directions.

This whole situation still felt bizarre to me, and I had a feeling my blackouts had something to do with it, so I brought my journal along the way. At every stop I would search the thing for any hints of a blackout in the past few months, with no success, and from time to time I would update it again, making sure not a thing in my life would escape this exceptionally boring book.

I had found the inn of Ill Omen at noon. I had thought it would have looked more gloomy (I mean look at the name), but it eyed as a peaceful cozy little place. Although summer, the weather had been terribly wet, not cold itself, but my soaked clothes didn't quite keep me warm. I sat in front of the inn for a few minutes, just off the road, preparing myself.

I sure wished I asked Lucien Lachance if I was supposed to know this Rufio, it would make it easier for me to prepare for this encounter. I was going to have to improvise, and that made me very nervous.

With that feeling I entered the strangely named inn.

"Well I be a spotted snow bear, a customer!", a middle aged man said from the counter. I take it this inn is not very popular.

"Good day, fellow Nord!", I tried to reply cheerful. "Might you have some mead for sale?"

"Coming right to you.", he reached underneath the counter. "We also got plenty of rooms if you want one. Ain't nobody here 'cept old Rufio."

He just made it way too easy. I sat down and pulled out some Septims. "Sure why not, how much is it?"

"Twelve Septims in total. Though..", he paused and checked me out. I wish I didn't see that slight hint of a perverted grin on his face. "I can see if I can give you a discount." He brought me the mug of mead and joined me. "You should get rid of those wet clothes before you get ill.", he added with a wink.

"Twelve Septims is nothing I can't afford.", I said avoiding that last comment, shove the gold over the table and took the mead.

"Sure sweetie but don't complain I didn't offer." He gave me a key and slid into a smile so greasy that his cheeks actually made squishing sounds. This was going to be a short drink, I decided.

"I'm Manheim Maulhand."

"Val." I took a big gulp of mead.

"Pretty name, and quite the drinker I see. "

"You mentioned an old guy staying here?"

"Rufio? He's an old codger. Been living here for a couple of weeks now."

"Why?"

Manheim leaned in and said more quietly "If you ask me, he's hiding from something."

"Oh."

"But what do I care? He pays his tab."

Subconsciously I looked up, to where I though the rooms would be.

"The man's room is downstairs, not up there. In what I like to call the Private Quarters. I-"

Manheim looked at the door, a Redguard woman had walked in and saved me from this awkward conversation at the perfect timing. It was al the information I needed.

"Minerva!", the innkeeper left my table to greet her, so I quickly drank the rest of the mead and made haste to my room.

It must have been hours since I left the common room. Or that was what it had felt like. Night had fallen.

I had just finished updating and reading everything in my journal. No signs of periods missing, or they must have been short. Now I had noticed that the voices downstairs had long gone. Manheim must have gone to bed, or so I hoped.

I left all my stuff in my room, with exception of the Blade of Woe in my right boot, and my journal in my left hand, so I could claim I wanted to read a book if Manheim wasn't asleep after all, or would wake due to my horrible sneaking skills.

Luckily for me, the Nord was a soundly sleeper. I spotted him sleeping behind his counter as I sneaked past. I opened the trapdoor, and took a moment to listen.

As silently as possible I went down. (which was as effective as just climbing the ladder casually, really.) I found Rufio easily enough. Sleeping, curled up, in his bed.

Still not sure what I was going to ask, I woke him, which proved very easy, He seemed very scared, I observed.

"Who are you? What do you want? I ain't done nothin!"

"My name is Val and I want answers. My turn. Why are you hiding? What did you do?"

"Nothin I swear you! I can pay you! Name your price! Anything! Anything!"

I could smell his fear. He sweated in the same way bandits do when they start to beg for mercy, and that somewhat excited me.

"Look pal I know you did, admit it to me, then I might let you live.", I said dead serious.

"No! Please! I didn't mean to do it, you understand me? She struggled! I... I told her to just stay still, but she wouldn't listen! I had no choice!"

Images ran through my head of possible scenarios that might have happened. Rufio seemed to think I already knew exactly what. But I needn't know.

I said nothing. I kept looking Rufio in his fear filled eyes while I drew the Blade of Woe from my boot.

Rufio's throat slit open, fresh warm blood leaking over my arm and clothes.

I suppose people never get killed without reason. Sure, it might not always be a good reason, like money or a better social standing, but there are people who really don't deserve to live. Some might say you can't take that right into your own hands. I say rapists and murderers get set free all the time after a few years of prison. Is that truly just?

The Dark Brotherhood consists of paid assassins, and the price of death can't be small. If someone was willingly to pay a large amount of money just to get someone killed, they probably have a very good reason, or they own too much money.

Did this really justify my actions? A carousel of mixed feelings haunted my thoughts.

I started crying, unsure why.

I never took my stuff from my room in the Inn of Ill Omen. I just left.

I guess I should expect a visit from Lucien Lachance soon at my cave, or actually he probably already will be there when I arrive. I'm not so sure. Somehow the thought of that made me nervous, it felt so personal, doing 'business' at home.

I travelled most of the day and eventually found my late sleep at a bandit hideout I cleared out weeks ago. It was in the ruins of an Imperial fort, and well protected. (Not well enough against the famous Bandit Spooker, but it would do.) Here are beds and loot I never cared to take like clothing and most of all I hoped to find some food that was still good enough to actually eat, without succes.

After carefully updating my journal again and hiding it under the best bed I could find, I finally went to sleep.

I'm not sure what exactly waked me up. Something didn't feel right, and it soon became clear to me as I got dragged out of my dream world. Someone sat on my bed. Someone I didn't expect just yet. I did not see him, but I knew it was him just from the whole atmosphere here and his scent. He smelled of dried blood mixed with something else, I could not put my finger on it, but it smelled nice. It is not that present, but distinct enough to remember vividly.

"Lucien..", I said softly

No candle was lit, making the room very dark, but not dark enough to see the pitch black robed figure sitting at the side of my bed, looking at me.

"So.. the deed is done", he said in his usually tone.

"How do you know all this? I wish to know."

"I will tell you everything you desire to know."

"Well first off, who or what is the Night Mother?"

Lucien smiled and a few hours long explanation began over the Night Mother, Sithis, the Void, and the Dark Brotherhood itself. Halfway though he offered to sit down in the dining room, after of course giving me some privacy to dress. It was all very interesting. I asked every question that popped up, and he would answer it.

One moment he seemed so cold at heart, the other very warm. Although his presence remained intimidating I soon felt very comfortable.

"So. Finally ran out of questions, my child?"

"For now."

"As I said, I directly oversee a particular group of family members. You will join that group, and fulfill any contracts given."

I nodded. "Where do I find this group?"

"The city of Cheydinhal, in the abandoned house near the eastern wall. Enter the basement, and attempt to open the black door. Then you will be asked a question. Answer thusly: "Sanguine, my Brother." You will gain entrance to the Sanctuary."

"I have never been in Cheydinhal before, as far as I can remember. Can't we just travel together?"

That startled him for a small moment. "It is wiser to travel alone my child, to not draw much attention."

"I suppose," Traveling with Lucien would promise to be exciting though. "but I barely have a clue where I am now. The only city I find easily is the Imperial City and that is just because of that giant white tower they got."

"The White Gold Tower. Look..", he thought a moment and his tone got slightly colder. "I do not mind traveling together if you so much desire it but there is one thing you should know."

"continue."

"Just about every female recruit I meet seems to fancy me, it tends to get annoying, as you must surely understand. Do not be like one of them, my dear child."

**Wispers' notes: I would love some reviews with decent feedback! It would allow me to improve my work so much. :) If you have read this and have the time to give me your opinion and tips, please go ahead!**

I'm a monster. I felt nothing, nothing but paralyzed by an overdoses of mixed feelings, just absolutely stunned. In front of me lied the lifeless body of Rufio. His eyes had started to sink into the skull, his skin had gotten purple, and Rigor Mortis, the stiffening of the body, had start to set in. I had been here for hours.

I left my home 2 days ago. The journey had seemed longer then that though. I'm not that topographically skilled, at first I found my way by following a track of bandit hideouts though the eastern side of Cyrodiil, after that I asked patrolling guards for directions.

This whole situation still felt bizarre to me, and I had a feeling my blackouts had something to do with it, so I brought my journal along the way. At every stop I would search the thing for any hints of a blackout in the past few months, with no success, and from time to time I would update it again, making sure not a thing in my life would escape this exceptionally boring book.

I had found the inn of Ill Omen at noon. I had thought it would have looked more gloomy (I mean look at the name), but it eyed as a peaceful cozy little place. Although summer, the weather had been terribly wet, not cold itself, but my soaked clothes didn't quite keep me warm. I sat in front of the inn for a few minutes, just off the road, preparing myself.

I sure wished I asked Lucien Lachance if I was supposed to know this Rufio, it would make it easier for me to prepare for this encounter. I was going to have to improvise, and that made me very nervous.

With that feeling I entered the strangely named inn.

"Well I be a spotted snow bear, a customer!", a middle aged man said from the counter. I take it this inn is not very popular.

"Good day, fellow Nord!", I tried to reply cheerful. "Might you have some mead for sale?"

"Coming right to you.", he reached underneath the counter. "We also got plenty of rooms if you want one. Ain't nobody here 'cept old Rufio."

He just made it way too easy. I sat down and pulled out some Septims. "Sure why not, how much is it?"

"Twelve Septims in total. Though..", he paused and checked me out. I wish I didn't see that slight hint of a perverted grin on his face. "I can see if I can give you a discount." He brought me the mug of mead and joined me. "You should get rid of those wet clothes before you get ill.", he added with a wink.

"Twelve Septims is nothing I can't afford.", I said avoiding that last comment, shove the gold over the table and took the mead.

"Sure sweetie but don't complain I didn't offer." He gave me a key and slid into a smile so greasy that his cheeks actually made squishing sounds. This was going to be a short drink, I decided.

"I'm Manheim Maulhand."

"Val." I took a big gulp of mead.

"Pretty name, and quite the drinker I see. "

"You mentioned an old guy staying here?"

"Rufio? He's an old codger. Been living here for a couple of weeks now."

"Why?"

Manheim leaned in and said more quietly "If you ask me, he's hiding from something."

"Oh."

"But what do I care? He pays his tab."

Subconsciously I looked up, to where I though the rooms would be.

"The man's room is downstairs, not up there. In what I like to call the Private Quarters. I-"

Manheim looked at the door, a Redguard woman had walked in and saved me from this awkward conversation at the perfect timing. It was al the information I needed.

"Minerva!", the innkeeper left my table to greet her, so I quickly drank the rest of the mead and made haste to my room.

It must have been hours since I left the common room. Or that was what it had felt like. Night had fallen.

I had just finished updating and reading everything in my journal. No signs of periods missing, or they must have been short. Now I had noticed that the voices downstairs had long gone. Manheim must have gone to bed, or so I hoped.

I left all my stuff in my room, with exception of the Blade of Woe in my right boot, and my journal in my left hand, so I could claim I wanted to read a book if Manheim wasn't asleep after all, or would wake due to my horrible sneaking skills.

Luckily for me, the Nord was a soundly sleeper. I spotted him sleeping behind his counter as I sneaked past. I opened the trapdoor, and took a moment to listen.

As silently as possible I went down. (which was as effective as just climbing the ladder casually, really.) I found Rufio easily enough. Sleeping, curled up, in his bed.

Still not sure what I was going to ask, I woke him, which proved very easy, He seemed very scared, I observed.

"Who are you? What do you want? I ain't done nothin!"

"My name is Val and I want answers. My turn. Why are you hiding? What did you do?"

"Nothin I swear you! I can pay you! Name your price! Anything! Anything!"

I could smell his fear. He sweated in the same way bandits do when they start to beg for mercy, and that somewhat excited me.

"Look pal I know you did, admit it to me, then I might let you live.", I said dead serious.

"No! Please! I didn't mean to do it, you understand me? She struggled! I... I told her to just stay still, but she wouldn't listen! I had no choice!"

Images ran through my head of possible scenarios that might have happened. Rufio seemed to think I already knew exactly what. But I needn't know.

I said nothing. I kept looking Rufio in his fear filled eyes while I drew the Blade of Woe from my boot.

Rufio's throat slit open, fresh warm blood leaking over my arm and clothes.

I suppose people never get killed without reason. Sure, it might not always be a good reason, like money or a better social standing, but there are people who really don't deserve to live. Some might say you can't take that right into your own hands. I say rapists and murderers get set free all the time after a few years of prison. Is that truly just?

The Dark Brotherhood consists of paid assassins, and the price of death can't be small. If someone was willingly to pay a large amount of money just to get someone killed, they probably have a very good reason, or they own too much money.

Did this really justify my actions? A carousel of mixed feelings haunted my thoughts.

I started crying, unsure why.

I never took my stuff from my room in the Inn of Ill Omen. I just left.

I guess I should expect a visit from Lucien Lachance soon at my cave, or actually he probably already will be there when I arrive. I'm not so sure. Somehow the thought of that made me nervous, it felt so personal, doing 'business' at home.

I travelled most of the day and eventually found my late sleep at a bandit hideout I cleared out weeks ago. It was in the ruins of an Imperial fort, and well protected. (Not well enough against the famous Bandit Spooker, but it would do.) Here are beds and loot I never cared to take like clothing and most of all I hoped to find some food that was still good enough to actually eat, without succes.

After carefully updating my journal again and hiding it under the best bed I could find, I finally went to sleep.

I'm not sure what exactly waked me up. Something didn't feel right, and it soon became clear to me as I got dragged out of my dream world. Someone sat on my bed. Someone I didn't expect just yet. I did not see him, but I knew it was him just from the whole atmosphere here and his scent. He smelled of dried blood mixed with something else, I could not put my finger on it, but it smelled nice. It is not that present, but distinct enough to remember vividly.

"Lucien..", I said softly

No candle was lit, making the room very dark, but not dark enough to see the pitch black robed figure sitting at the side of my bed, looking at me.

"So.. the deed is done", he said in his usually tone.

"How do you know all this? I wish to know."

"I will tell you everything you desire to know."

"Well first off, who or what is the Night Mother?"

Lucien smiled and a few hours long explanation began over the Night Mother, Sithis, the Void, and the Dark Brotherhood itself. Halfway though he offered to sit down in the dining room, after of course giving me some privacy to dress. It was all very interesting. I asked every question that popped up, and he would answer it.

One moment he seemed so cold at heart, the other very warm. Although his presence remained intimidating I soon felt very comfortable.

"So. Finally ran out of questions, my child?"

"For now."

"As I said, I directly oversee a particular group of family members. You will join that group, and fulfill any contracts given."

I nodded. "Where do I find this group?"

"The city of Cheydinhal, in the abandoned house near the eastern wall. Enter the basement, and attempt to open the black door. Then you will be asked a question. Answer thusly: "Sanguine, my Brother." You will gain entrance to the Sanctuary."

"I have never been in Cheydinhal before, as far as I can remember. Can't we just travel together?"

That startled him for a small moment. "It is wiser to travel alone my child, to not draw much attention."

"I suppose," Traveling with Lucien would promise to be exciting though. "but I barely have a clue where I am now. The only city I find easily is the Imperial City and that is just because of that giant white tower they got."

"The White Gold Tower. Look..", he thought a moment and his tone got slightly colder. "I do not mind traveling together if you so much desire it but there is one thing you should know."

"continue."

"Just about every female recruit I meet seems to fancy me, it tends to get annoying, as you must surely understand. Do not be like one of them, my dear child."


End file.
